To Start a Second Life
by purpleshrub
Summary: Jacob Carter's first mission with the Tok'ra. Complete
1. Chapter 1

There probably isn't any demand for a Jacob story without SG-1. But I don't really care -(laughs). _I_ was curious how his first mission went and figured that maybe someone else would be too. Also, those of us at the Sam/Daniel Rebellion are getting together a little gift basket for Carmen Argenziano, to thank him for doing such a good job bringing Jacob to life, and to thank him for making comments favorable to a Sam/Daniel pairing. But noromos don't worry-no ship of any variety in this story. : )

Italics represent the internal dialogue between Jacob and Selmak. Notes at end.

* * *

Jacob knew that he was dreaming. He stood alone on a barren landscape, smoke rising from the bodies of those mowed down by staff weapons. His intelligence about Ra's plan had come too late, and he knew he would find no survivors. He closed his eyes against the sight, and when he opened them again he was awake and on a narrow cot.

He blinked as he took in the luminescent blue walls and ceiling, and his own earth-toned clothing. The last few days he had been disoriented in his first waking moments; his limbs not aching, his breathing unobstructed, and the thoughts of another alongside his own. This was not the first time one of Selmak's dreams had bled into his own. He could see why host and symbiote rarely slept at the same time—it was just too confusing. But so far he'd been unable to fall asleep when his body was still moving and interacting with others. Selmak had promised the ability would come with time.

Jacob tied on his boots and got up, stretching and reveling in the absence of arthritis. Selmak was lightly dozing—Jacob didn't know how he knew that, but he did. He wandered into the nearest common room and got himself something to eat. He paused when saw several grupna fruit, which he hated but which Selmak loved. In the end he took two but he definitely wasn't going to start making a habit of it. He smiled at Selmak's pleased murmur when the smell woke her up.

It was strange, he thought, how readily he'd become accustomed to sharing his body.

_Strange is relative, child_.

_Eat your grupna_, Jacob ordered her.

_Just my luck to get a military man, set on ordering me around_, she grumbled, but her tone was fond. Jacob sent a smile back to her.

He wasn't sure how the communication between them worked exactly, though he knew that Selmak had access to every part of his brain, including where the brain interpreted sounds. In the hands of another Tok'ra—and certainly the Goa'uld he'd been learning about—such power would be terrifying, but he knew Selmak more completely than he had ever known anyone, even his wife. He knew Selmak well enough to trust her unconditionally, a fact that was still surprising after being a cynic for so long.

In the first day or so after the blending, Jacob had been reluctant to relinquish control to his companion, and Selmak had been amazingly patient with him. Looking back that short time, Jacob cringed remembering how defensive and paranoid he'd been.

_Yes, you were. But that's understandable. Usually we have the time to let new hosts grow accustomed to us._

Instead, in the frenzy of moving to the new base, Selmak had given Jacob constant instructions on what to say; what to do and how to do it, never coming forward. In fact, the other Tok'ra had begun to fear she was somehow injured or being suppressed, and she was forced to ask for Jacob's permission to come forward and reassure them. _Idiots_, she commented suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. _If I was hurt, how did I heal you? How did you learn the names of the council? Hmm?_

Just then, another Tok'ra entered the room, a pudgy woman with cheeks round from smiling. "Selmak, Jacob, high suns," she said.

"Ngagnon, Yima," Jacob returned. Yima, the host, rarely spoke, preferring to let her symbiote speak for her. Jacob couldn't understand that mentality and didn't think he'd ever adopt it, but knew that many hosts agreed with Yima. "High suns," was the traditional greeting on Yima's home planet, which had a whopping four suns (Yima's people lived on a chain of islands near the planet's northern pole). Ngagnon had adopted the saying a few days after her blending.

"Did you sleep well?" Ngagnon asked.

"Except for Selmak's dreams, yes."

_And your snoring_. Jacob quickly coughed to hide his laugh, but he doubted Ngagnon was fooled.

Meals were usually quiet, at least on the outside, because host and symbiote often conversed. Today Selmak asked several questions about his military career, fascinated by what she saw as extremely low technology. It occurred to Jacob at one point that he was freely sharing heavily classified information, but in truth he didn't really worry about it, not when Selmak had so much classified knowledge of her own that she shared readily.

Eventually Ngagnon said as though she'd just remembered, "Selmak? The council wants to see you."

Jacob wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. He knew through Selmak that they couldn't afford to be idle for long, and he partly felt like some activity would finally make this whole experience seem more real.

On the other hand, the thought of doing what amounted to field work again was pretty daunting, even if he did feel better than he had in years. After all, a week ago he had been retired and on his deathbed. Jacob also had to be honest with himself—Selmak wouldn't let him be otherwise—he was afraid. In Selmak's nightmares he had seen what the Goa'uld were capable of. Certainly people on Earth could delight in cruelty, but they didn't have the technology the Goa'uld did. Just the thought of certain people he'd seen in the course of his career with the control of a sarcophagus made him tremble. He was glad of Selmak's quiet support and knew she would be the one in charge for most of the mission.

But for now, in the quiet Tok'ra tunnel, Jacob silently asked for control during the meeting, surprised by how relieved he was when Selmak agreed without hesitation. In his head he knew he could trust her, but it seemed his gut instinct would need a little more time.

When he entered the Council Chamber Jacob nodded to all the Tok'ra present but said only, "Garshaw."

She smiled at him but he knew she'd rather be speaking to Selmak. "Selmak. We are pleased to have you among us once again."

Following Selmak's directions, Jacob sat near the head of the table. The "Glad to be here," was his own. Martouf/Lantash smiled a little at that, but no one else did.

Without further preamble Garshaw said, "A few hours ago we received a distress call from Yayook, the operative you placed on Halkidiki."

It was no effort to think, "Halkidiki. Base planet of Hermes, vassal-lord to Chronus."

Garshaw continued, "The distress call followed all proper channels and asked for direction. It is the recommendation of the rest of the council that you go to assess the situation, render assistance, and if necessary, extract Yayook. Despite your recent blending, you are a logical choice through your intimate knowledge of Yayook's infiltration and your host's unknown face. Do you accept?"

The last question was largely a formality, but Selmak asked him, "What do we do, Jacob? Are you ready for a mission?" knowing the answer already.

"We accept," Jacob said.


	2. Chapter 2

Four hours later saw him out another Stargate which was closer to their destination and piloting a tel'tac with the ease of familiarity, running through what he knew about Hermes and Halkidiki.

Hermes wasn't powerful enough to have a ship detector set up around his planet, and in any case didn't feel the need for one, so it was simple to set the tel'tac down in a clearing in the forest outside of the city. Jacob exchanged his sand-colored Tok'ra garb for the flowing bright-colored clothing favored on this planet.

Only one moon was visible, and it was about the same size as Earth's—but it was a pale violet. The trees were thick, surprising for such a warm, dry climate, but Jacob and Selmak both possessed a keen sense of direction as individuals, made even better together, so they made good time, arriving on the outskirts of Kallithea about an hour before dawn.

Jacob walked calmly through the quiet streets, eventually reaching the main square. Even at this early hour, men in robes similar to Jacob's own smoked flavored tobacco. Jacob went to the group clustered around the huge statue of Hermes, giving control to Selmak as he did so, and was included in the group without a word being spoken. Selmak quietly smoked and absorbed any effects the alien tobacco could have caused as they subtly searched for the tingle of another Tok'ra, Goa'uld or Jaffa.

When there was no sign of Yayook, Jacob felt Selmak grow more concerned, both for their operative and for themselves. Entering Hermes' palace would be a lot more dangerous than this general reconnaissance. But it seemed they would have no choice.

They stayed on the square for several more hours, until the sun was high in the sky, then when down the street to the marketplace, where Selmak purchased a beautifully carved ivory pipe and some high-grade tobacco. Then they joined the line of those waiting to see and worship Hermes.

_Hermes is very intelligent_, Selmak warned again as they inched closer. _He has always been a weapon in the right hand of Chronus. He is not a protector of thieves as your Tau'ri mythology suggests, unless they are his own. He _is _a thief, his greatest skills being in absconding with valued intelligence and technology from other Goa'uld lords. And he does not risk himself, his wealth or his few but loyal Jaffa with frequent warring. Should Chronus rise to the supreme power that Ra once possessed, Hermes would be richly rewarded. And should Chronus fall, Hermes would easily find another patron. While he waits for one or the other to occur, he accumulates wealth and knowledge for future use._

_No wonder he didn't bother to set up something to detect approaching ships_, Jacob commented. _If he's a spy himself, he's probably good at detecting the spies of others_. Selmak grimly agreed.

As they drew near the entrance, Selmak slipped a small but very valuable pellet of pure naquadah inside the pipe. She held up the pipe for the guards to examine and stood calmly while they searched Jacob's robes.

Entering the throne room, Jacob's eyes were drawn towards Hermes' throne—it looked to be carved jade stamped with gold leaf, and was covered with numerous elaborately-embroidered pillows. Hermes stood out too, the only one in the room wearing pure white robes. The simple, sweeping style contrasted with the gaudy dress Jacob knew most Goa'uld favored, made all the more striking by the host's classically Greek features and curly brown hair. His crown was a single gold band etched with ebony feet adorned with wings—which was also the symbol worn by his Jaffa. All told, Hermes looked godly. Jacob could see why the simple people of this planet worshipped him.

When they drew closer and the Jaffa guards sensed Selmak, Jacob found both of his arms seized, staff weapons and zat'nik'tels leveled at him. The quiet activity of the room came to a dead halt as everyone stopped what they were doing to stare, but Jacob only sensed calm from Selmak. He felt his arms go up as far as they could without trying to break free of the guards, and heard Selmak's echoing tones come from his own mouth: "I am unarmed."

Hermes' eyes briefly flashed gold. "Who are you?" How dare you come before us unannounced?"

"I am Kyriako, son of Kassandra."

Now Hermes' eyes glittered dangerously. "Thessaloniki was destroyed by Heru'ur nearly five seasons ago."

"Of that I am well-aware," Selmak said. "But I was not at my Royal Mother's court when it happened. She had sent me to a planet on the outskirts of her territory, to learn if the rumors of a naquadah deposit there were true."

Hermes leaned forward. "And were they?"

Rather than answer, Selmak made Jacob's eyes look towards the pipe they had brought. Hermes followed their gaze and then glanced at his First Prime, who immediately stepped forward and took it. He quickly found the naquadah pebble, which he examined and handed to the Goa'uld.

Hermes turned it in his fingers for a moment, then deliberately dropped it. It bounced twice on the tile floor and rolled to a stop. Jacob knew that Hermes was trying to figure out why they had come to him rather than their common overlord, Chronus. But Selmak kept his expression neutral.

"So you wish to join my court?" Hermes finally asked, still fishing for information.

"My Royal Mother spoke well of your conduct during the campaign against Sekhmet." This was Selmak's trump card—very few knew that Kassandra resented how Chronus had handled that war, but Selmak was gambling that Hermes did. And if he did, that tidbit would tell him _why_ his court and not Chronus's.

It was as though they were the only ones in the room and the others did not even exist; not the Jaffa, waiting with weapons raised, and not Hermes' worshippers, frightened into silence. Finally Hermes said, "Come wanderer, take off your traveling sandals and rest at my dwelling." The weapons lowered and people resumed what they had been doing.

They were in. Jacob saw a Jaffa scoop up the discarded naquadah, and as they were escorted into the recesses of the palace, he wondered if Hermes had picked up that traditional-sounding greeting from the Greek people he ruled. Or had they imitated him?

His bath was refreshing, although Jacob certainly wasn't used to being bathed by cowed slaves, and being treated like a slave-owner really bothered him. It was hard to look at the women with empty eyes and remember that his mission would not help them—that no one would. Selmak gently teased him about his modesty, but grew somber when he thought about the slaves.

_It is why we fight the Goa'uld_, she reminded him. _We cannot help these people, but our ultimate victory will help all humans_.

After the bath, Selmak first took fresh robes off a nearby rack and then took a zat'nik'tel from the next. Each movement was steady and projected confidence, and while both host and symbiote knew full well that they did not have permission to carry a weapon, the slaves did not and would never dare contradict them. Jacob hoped that when he was gone the slaves weren't punished too severely for allowing it, but part of him was selfishly glad that he would never know.

Selmak tucked the zat'nik'tel away out of sight and went into Hermes' banquet hall, moving slowly towards the large table and taking a meandering path. When she spotted Mirum, Jacob expected to feel a surge of relief coupled with increased anticipation for what would be next, but Selmak was keeping his heart rate in a strictly neutral zone. It was an odd sensation. Mirum looked straight at them five minutes later, but of course showed no recognition.

Selmak had no intention of approaching her target immediately—she and Jacob both agreed that Hermes would have spies watching. They ate an excellent dinner and retired to their assigned chamber. _Go to sleep, Jacob_, Selmak advised.

_We could trade watches_, Jacob offered. _I'd wake you if something happened_.

_That's very considerate of you, but I don't need rest nearly as much as you do, and now that I have the mission to focus on instead of just you, I need your help to keep our body healthy_. Years of difficult missions and long, uncomfortable airplane rides had given Jacob the ability to fall asleep right away regardless of his surroundings, so he closed his eyes and slept.

He woke as dawn was beginning to peep uncertainly through the gauze curtains. One routine the pair had already adopted was to share a happy memory when they woke; Selmak insisted on it, and Jacob was surprised how much it helped the day start on the right note.

Selmak went first, even though she hadn't actually slept. She told a story about how once, when she and Saroosh were arguing, Saroosh seized control and went to a party Selmak didn't want to go to. In retaliation, Selmak didn't protect her host from the effects of alcohol as she usually did, and Saroosh's resulting drunken antics had Jacob in stitches. If their laughter was audible they'd probably have woken every guard in the palace.

Then it was Jacob's turn. He didn't consciously choose a memory, just let one rise to the front of his thoughts. An image came to him of his daughter's grinning face. They'd been at some stuffy official function, Miranda at home with Mark, who had the flu. Nine-year-old Sammie had patiently endured all the "isn't she cute" comments until one retired general peered down at her and said, "Major Carter, every time I see you there seems to be a beautiful woman on your arm." And to Sammie: "I bet you want to be a model or a movie star."

Jacob winced at the condescending tone but wasn't quick enough to stop Sammie. She stamped her foot, chin jutting forward. "No! I'm going to be an astronaut and walk on the moon. Come on Dad." Jacob fought back a chuckle (unable to suppress a grin) as she tugged him away, leaving a flabbergasted Major General in their wake. He was on another world and everything was different and strange—but he remembered as clearly as if it was yesterday.

_She seems lovely_, Selmak commented with a smile. _I hope that soon we'll have a chance to get better acquainted_.

Still lost in his own thoughts, Jacob confessed, _I know she's strong and capable, in my head I know it. But to my heart she's still my baby girl_.

Selmak understood so easily the direction of his thoughts. _And… she sometimes_ resents _your unnecessary attempts to protect her_?

_I have every confidence in her intelligence_, Jacob explained. _But when she turned down NASA I was worried she'd fallen for another military asshole—_

_Like Jonas?_ Selmak interrupted.

_Yeah, he's the one. So I was afraid she's was turning down NASA and staying with her current assignment just to please someone like… him_.

He could feel Selmak's amusement. _You were wrong_.

_Yes, I was_. He paused. _Actually, she seems more content now than I've ever seen her… happy with where she is, like she doesn't need to beat her head against the current glass ceiling anymore_.

_But it was that drive and ambition that has enabled her to come this far_, Selmak pointed out (after clarifying the "glass ceiling" concept).

Jacob agreed. _Yes, and I'm not oblivious to the difficulties she had proving herself as a scientist and as a soldier. But I always worried that she focused on her career ahead of overall contentment. I guess I'm just happy she seems to have found the right place at last_. As he finished that last thought, Jacob's stomach growled, so they regretfully pulled themselves back to reality and their mission.

After the midday meal—for of course the Goa'uld ate breakfast in the comfort of their opulent beds—as Jacob walked past Mirum, Selmak said casually, "High suns."

Shock flitted across Mirum's face before his expression closed, setting off all sorts of alarm bells for both Selmak and Jacob. Thinking quickly, Selmak headed for a small council room a few corridors away that she'd made a note of the day before. Jacob warned, _Mirum's following_.

_I know_. Selmak went into the room first, and when Mirum closed the door she turned, taking the zat'nik'tel out as she did so, and shot him point-blank. Ignoring Jacob's incoherent shock, she leveled the weapon at the other man's face. The stance was in stark contrast with her worried tone as she said, "Mirum? It's Selmak. Talk to me."

Struggling past the effects of the blast, Mirum asked, "Saroosh?"

Jacob felt a pang of sorrow—first Selmak's, for he'd not had time to know Saroosh better, but also his own as they felt each emotion as one. "At peace. Now tell me."

"Yayook is dead. We sent the alarm as soon as we realized something was off, but the Jaffa arrested us barely a turn of time later. They used some kind of drug to keep Yayook from killing us when they extracted him, then put Guilio in me. He's been waiting for you to come." Mirum's eyes glistened with tears.

The Jacob felt his expression harden, and heard Selmak say, "Mirum, I'm sorry," before shooting him twice more. Jacob knew that zat'nik'tel could disintegrate matter, of course, but this was the first time outside of Selmak's memories for him to actually see it happen.

Selmak quietly put the zat'nik'tel away again and walked out of the empty room. They could hardly stroll out the palace's front gate, so they went back to their quarters, greeting those they met along the way. After checking that they were truly alone, they went out the window and carefully climbed down the two stories to the ground. The unevenness of the walls helped them, the stone rough under Jacob's fingers.

Once outside, they ducked into an empty house and took the robes of a more ordinary person, leaving the rich robes behind. They walked through the nearly empty side-streets like nothing was wrong, eventually reaching the forest and leaving Kallithea behind.

As they walked, Jacob kept expecting to hear someone behind him, to hear a cry—"Stop him!" or turn a corner to find Hermes and twenty Jaffa waiting for them. Such things happen to amateurs, Selmak sneered. I am among the oldest of the Tok'ra. This has been a sad mission, for we lost two valuable partners in our fight who were also personal friends of mine. But it was not an especially difficult or dangerous one.

That made Jacob feel overwhelmed again—what had he gotten himself into? But as their ship pulled away from Halkidiki, he realized there was no place he'd rather be. His thoughts went to his daughter, realizing only now how little about her current life he knew. He was sorry now he'd ever doubted her conviction in her assignment, grateful beyond expression that in one move she'd given him his life back and opened the universe to him—and very, very proud of his little girl.

* * *

Well, I hope that ending didn't cause any sugar comas. : ) I didn't want to be so sappy, but sometimes it happens. : ) A few quick notes:

The names of original characters are from my imagination (the Tok'ra) or from Greek mythology/tradition. I don't think Jacob's wife ever got a name in canon, so I used the name Miranda, as Redbyrd did in one story, as my own little mini-homage to her. I hope Redbyrd doesn't mind and that ya'll will go search out her fic-it's fantastic gen, missing scene kind of stuff.

The place names are places in Greece (I got back from a trip there less than a week ago-July 2005). I actually wrote most of the first draft of this story on my balcony in Thessaloniki-lovely city. Halkidiki is a region in Northern Greecenear Thessaloniki known for its great beaches. Kallithea is the town in Halkidiki where I went to the beach one weekend. (I didn't put this information in the story because I didn't think Jacob would necessarily know it). And anyone who wants to know more about my trip can swing by my livejournal, where I also go by purpleshrub. : )

I decided that at this point Selmak still identifies herself as female because her last host was, but as the symbiote itself is asexual, in time that will change. Of course this gave me unending trouble trying to decide what pronoun to use when Selmak was doing something. (rueful smile)

I really really love feedback. I also felt like I didn't quite know how to write Jacob just because I don't know him as well as SG-1, so I'm curious if I hit the mark at all. That's all, folks. : )


End file.
